A Wolf's Regrets
by foulmouthedhufflepuff
Summary: A year after the Exalted Council, Solas receives some troubling news from Skyhold. Lavellan's body was found in Tevinter, but is there a chance she still lives? Written from Solas's perspective. SolasxLavellan, after Trespasser, angsty with some fluff, some swearing, but nothing else explicit.
1. Prologue: Journals

Hello and welcome to this updated fic! If you started reading this story between when I first published it (April 2015) and now (April 2017) you may have noticed that it's not the same story it was.

If you're reading this after April 2017, none of this matters to you and you can probably skip to the introduction. For those of you who did read the original version of the first two parts (prologue and chapter one), I offer my three main reasons for rewriting.

First, I recently played the game for the third time and Trespasser for the first time. Part of why I never finished uploading the rest of the fic was because Trespasser negated everything I had done. I always wanted to upload the rest, but what was the point if it wasn't canon anymore? I realized I could just rewrite it if I ever wanted to, but I didn't want to until recently.

Second, I've become a much better writer. Who knew that taking creative writing classes would help me be a better writer? Remember, fellow word nerds, just because you think you're good at something doesn't mean you won't benefit from more instruction.

Third, I realized that I had made this too specifically about my inquisitor. I wanted it to be a bit more relatable, something that more Lavellans than just mine could fit into.

Alright, I've done my explaining. I'm sorry to make you read things.

* * *

Introduction:

This takes place after Trespasser. Inquisitor Lavellan disbanded the Inquisition, recognizing that her mission was complete and that keeping it around would only lead to corruption, just like Solas said. Ah, Solas. Fen'Harel. Dread Wolf. Vhenan. She never stopped looking for him after the defeat of Corypheus. She spent those two long years learning, meditating, searching the Emerald Graves, the Arbor Wilds, hoping for a clue, some sort of since which seemed like it would never come. After the Exalted Council, she refused to move on as he wanted, refused to believe that he was lost. If what he said was true, that what they had was real, she could not stop looking for him. She may not be able to convince him to change his plans, but she would not let him face the end of the world alone.

Lavellan, no longer Inquisitor, began to spend less and less time at Skyhold and more and more time wandering. What once felt like a family began to disperse, to pursue their own lives. It seemed impossible at first, that the Inquisition could ever separate, but after some time only Lavellan, Leliana, and a few scouts were left to search for Fen'Harel and his agents. They followed every lead, but the Dread Wolf was not to be found. We begin our story one year after the disbanding of the Inquisition.

This fic is from Solas's point of view. This prologue is written in a private journal style. Subsequent chapters are narrative style. Also, this is going to be angsty. It's Solas fanfiction. If you didn't come for angst, what did you even come for amirite?

Notes:

Justinian is the month of June in Thedas. wiki/Calendar

I use some simple elvish words in this fic. Any phrases used will be numbered and translated at the end of each chapter. Anything I don't provide a translation for can be found here: wiki/Elven_language

* * *

_**A Wolf's Regrets**_

_Prologue_

3rd Justinian, 9:45 Dragon

I awoke before dawn this morning in a cold sweat, unable to remember my journey in the fade. It's not unusual for dreams to slip away, but I am sure that this was more than a dream.

It may be this place. I never wanted to return to Arlathan, at least not yet. Every day the desire to leave grows, but every day I remind myself that what happened to this place was my fault. I will suffer the discomfort that reminder brings until I can restore the world I once knew.

4th Justinian, 9:45 Dragon

Sleep was difficult to come by again last night. I was cursed with visions of the eyes which still fill me with longing and loathing. I'm sure I felt lips brush against mine, but when they pulled away, I was unable to pursue. I heard a soft, far whimper and woke to realize the noise came from my own throat.

I haven't felt this close to her in a year, though Maker knows I have watched her. I know how she follows me, how she still believes. My spies cross paths with hers. I wanted to avoid having to commit it to paper. It seemed so foolish to care. I know my priorities.

Yet, I cannot bring myself to truly let her go. Last night's dream is simply more evidence to support what I already knew. I will carry her memory into the next life.

5th Justinian, 9:45 Dragon

I thought the last three restless nights were torment. They were nothing.

One of my agents sent a message from Skyhold. Lavellan was found the night before last in Tevinter. My agent says that accounts are conflicting. Most say she was found dead, some that she was found unconscious, and some that she is under an enchantment. "The spymaster seems to think it's the last," the message said. If Leliana is correct, there is still hope.

I know I cannot let this distract me, yet every time I close my eyes I see hers.

6th Justinian, 9:45 Dragon

I slept last night, but did not dream. My stomach groans but I cannot bring myself to eat.

I awoke to a message from Leliana, of all people, via one of my own ravens. Another came shortly after, and a third this afternoon. She must have given copies to all of her spies to ensure one may get to me.

It is true, then. She is gone. I should not cling to hope, but accept her passing. Why, then, can't I get those eyes out of my mind.

The full message is as follows:

_Solas,_

_I am sure your spies have already given you the news of the Inquisitor's death. I write merely to confirm it. You betrayed her, you betrayed us all, but we never stopped looking for you. I confess I wanted nothing but your head on a spike, but I never said as much to Lavellan. She wanted to see you redeemed. This is your fault, Solas._

_Dorian returns to Skyhold with her body. I will examine it and find out who did this. I pray to Andraste that it was not you, but if it was, you will not live to see All Soul's Day._

_I'm sure I needn't tell you that you are not welcome here. I will anyway. You are not welcome here._

None of the notes have been signed, but Leliana's hand is unmistakable.

I will have to mourn her in solitude.

7th Justinian, 9:45 Dragon

More troubled sleep last night.

She would still be alive if I had stayed. I never expected to see her face-to-face again, but knowing that she was alive has always been enough. I confess that I feel some level of guilt. After all, I could have, no, should have encouraged her to move on. I should have lied, shouldn't have allowed myself that one last kiss. It was pride that did it. I wanted her to follow me. I wanted her there, always one step behind me, right on my heels. I knew she was putting herself at risk, but I wanted to imagine that one day I might slip and that we might have another moment before the end.

My pride, my cruelty, led ma'arlath to her death. Perhaps I shall see her in another life, but I suspect not. If there is a life after this, I shall surely spend mine in endless agony.

May I walk the fade tonight, and find some closure there.

8th Justinian, 9:45 Dragon

It is not closure I have found, but hope. Her spirit is trapped, her body dying, but I may know how to save her.

They were only brief flashes of insight, pieces to a puzzle that I must race to solve, but I believe I understand what I saw.

I saw her wandering a vast nothingness, cold and starving. I saw the nightmare cackling, watching from above, perched on its web. I heard familiar voices whispering, felt the cool breath on my cheek.

Most of the words were nonsense, but I believe I understand. Unfortunately, this means I must disregard Leliana's threat and return to Skyhold.


	2. Chapter 1: Tarasyl'an Te'las

A quick note: Unlike the prologue, which I kept pretty similar, this chapter has been almost entirely rewritten from what it was in 2015. I realized that most of what I put in the previous version was basically unnecessary, so we're gonna get to the plot pretty quickly now.

Simple elvish translations here: wiki/Elven_language

More complicated translations the end of the chapter.

* * *

_**Chapter 1: The Place Where the Sky Was Held Back**_

The eluvian shimmers and ripples in front of me. I don't understand why I feel so frozen. I have to bring her back, and to do so, I have to get into Skyhold. I spent four straight days planning while Dorian took her body back. There's no reason my plan shouldn't work, and yet I am still apprehensive. If I fail, at any stage, she dies.

I inhale sharply through my nose and step forward, hoping that the information I was given was, and still is, accurate.

I emerge into the Inquisitor's chambers. It's true, Lavellan took the eluvian from the Winter Palace after the Exalted Council.

Hardly anything has changed. It still smells of her.

"You!" I am not alone. Dorian barrels towards me, pinning my neck between his forearm and the wall. "How dare you return, now, when she's gone?"

"Remove your hands from me, _Tevinter,_" I snarl.

He shoves me back before moving to the eluvian. "I knew I should have destroyed this thing."

"If you had, you would never see your dearest friend again, Dorian," I appeal.

"Speak plainly, unless you would like me to retrieve Leliana."

I hold up my hands in forfeit. "I am not here to fight. Lavellan is alive."

"Vishante kaffas!" He points his staff at my throat. (1)

"I swear, I do not."

"Prove it."

"Where is Cole?"

The spirit appears next to Dorian. He stares at me, eyes wide under a furrowed brow. "The cup, emptied, now refilled. I… Remember. A hole in her heart, she filled with drink and book, she learns to notice every voice on the wind. Now heart returns, but soul does not remain to receive it."

"What is he rambling about this time?"

"Well, well," a voice comes from the stairs, "if it isn't the big bad wolf. Has the end of the world come at last?" The dwarf saunters over to Cole. His usual smirk is gone, a scowl now in its place. "I told you we should have destroyed that thing," Varric gestures to the eluvian.

Dorian smirks. "Our _dear_ Solas was just trying to convince me that our friend, whose body now lies downstairs on a large rock slab, is actually still alive."

"I can see it!," Cole interjects, "She walks in circles, under the too-many eyes of the spider and the wolf."

"The wolf! You _are_ a part of this!" Dorian draws back his staff as if he can't decide whether to set me on fire or strike me. I place him in suspension with a blink.

"Calm yourself, Tevinter. I do not wish to hurt you, but I will save Lavellan no matter what it takes."

"Calm down, Chuckles!" Varric moves between me and Dorian.

"An emptiness, not only in her heart, but in his. He becomes the moon, always pulling her fathoms in, but always distant, she never reaches him. But he cracks, wishes to plummet into her. She is… Drying up. She is losing herself in the cracks in the mud. The spider will not let her live much longer."

"Please, Dorian, you are not as dim-witted as the rest of your countrymen. Surely you can see past Cole's riddles and understand the meaning behind them."

He glares at me, but after a few moments of deliberation, mutters, "She is trapped in the fade." I nod. "And you have returned to save her." I nod again. He sighs, "We will take you to her." I blink again, releasing him.

"We will?" Varric looks at Dorian incredulously.

"We will." He points a finger at my chest. "I will trust you, because she did, because I once believed you cared for her," he leans back, crossing his arms, "and because I am very rarely wrong."

* * *

Translations:

1\. "Vishante kaffas": Tevene for "You shit on my tongue," which I've interpreted to basically mean "you're pulling my leg" or "you're screwing with me," since there are really no context clues that I can find.


	3. Chapter 2: Nothing to Lose

Hey there! If you're one of the seven people who are still following this story, which I haven't updated in two years, I'm sure you're wondering what this story is doing in your alerts. Well, since you probably don't remember the plot anyway, and there were only two parts published before today, I highly recommend going back to the Prologue. When Trespasser came out, my whole story was no longer canon. I had essentially given up on it, but then I recently played Inquisition again and read like 20 fanfics so I'm back in Solavellan hell!

If you weren't one of the seven followers, you probably just jumped from chapter one to chapter two like it was no big deal. Aren't you lucky.

* * *

_**Chapter 2: Nothing to Lose, Everything to Gain**_

I feel the heads turn before Dorian even opens the door to the main hall. I step into the hall, which I'm sure has never been so quiet. "I admit," I say to Varric as I glance around the near-empty hall, "I expected more mourners."

"You should see what It's like outside."

I'm about to respond, but then I see her, on a large slab where the throne once was, just as Dorian said. A few of her clan surround her, crying, perhaps praying.

I approach slowly, reminding myself that she is not dead, but I admit that I understand why they all think it. Her skin is too pale, her eyes sunken, but her face does not hold the peace of the dead. Her mouth is fixed in a grimace. I walk closer. I know that I should look up, check to make sure no one else is about to try to kill me, perhaps offer some words of sympathy to her kin, but I cannot coax my eyes from her face.

I stand at the slab, reach out a hand to touch hers, and a knife reaches from my right, pressing into the place where my chin meets my neck. "I thought I made it clear that you should mourn elsewhere, Solas," the spymaster's voice is as cold as her steel. The other elves seem to just notice our presence. They gasp at the sight of me, the Dread Wolf.

"I have not come to mourn her, Leliana," My eyes remain on ma vhenan, for a moment longer before I turn to face Leliana, "but to help her."

"Explain yourselves," she flares at Varric and Dorian.

"We're giving him the benefit of the doubt," Varric starts.

"He says, well, Cole says, that Lavellan is not dead, but trapped in the fade."

Leliana narrows her eyes at me. "Give me one reason why I should trust you."

"I have a reason, but I cannot give it to you."

She presses harder with the blade. "And why is that."

"Because she lays there in front of me," I gesture to her body, "and you are keeping me from her."

Leliana exhales and lowers the knife. Not a moment passes before the great doors at the end of the hall burst open to reveal an angry long-horned qunari and an angrier blonde elf.

"It is true. You really wanted to die that bad, eh, motherfucker?" The Iron Bull beats his palm with his fist as he stomps down the hall.

"Elfy-assed… Ass!" Sera stomps down behind him.

"Wonderful," I mutter.

Dorian steps forward, holding his hand out. "Wait, Bull. Solas is—" but Dorian is interrupted by Cassandra, Cullen, and Josephine tumbling out from the war room.

"_Murderer,_" hisses Cassandra.

Josephine stands back, hand over her mouth. Cullen draws his sword.

"Is there anyone in Skyhold who does not wish me dead?" I mutter to myself.

Leliana smirks. "Unlikely."

Varric waves his hands in front of Cullen. "Take it easy, Curly, let us explain!"

As Dorian holds Bull and Sera back, and Varric holds Cassandra and Cullen back, I turn to face the slab once more. I'm not sure I have ever seen her look this small.

"Our dear friend lies dead," Vivienne's voice rings out from her loft, "and you can do nothing but squabble!" The room goes silent. "Very good. Solas, dear, I imagine you would not have come back without a good reason?" I nod my head. "And that if that reason were to annihilate the world here and now, there is most likely nothing we could do about it now, correct?"

"That is not why I am here," I insist.

"I'm sorry, dear, but do you really think anyone believes that?"

"I suppose not."

"Then the only way we can trust you is if we have nothing to lose and everything to gain." I nod. "Then perhaps we should gather what used to be the Inquisition so that you only have to explain your plan once?" I nod again. "Then shall we? Can we all take a few moments if it may save Lavellan?" Everyone else glances around at each other. They don't seem to keen to be ordered around by Vivienne, but she doesn't seem to be giving them a choice. They drop their posturing and go to find the friends not yet present.

The hall once again drops into silence. I return to the side of my love. "Ir abelas, vhenan," I whisper, "Ar ghilani vhenas."(1)

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Translations:

1\. "Ir abelas, vhenan. Ar ghilani vhenas,": "I'm sorry, heart. I will guide you home."


	4. Chapter 3: Concessions

Notes: Alright, this is a pretty short chapter. I've got tons of writing homework this week and I'm pretty burnt out. I just had to get this part out. Next segment should be pretty action-packed. But for now, have some Inquisition drama!

Also, if you're digging it, or if you're not, comments are always appreciated!

* * *

_**Chapter 3: Concessions**_

I look out at the faces of the former Inquisition. Where do I even begin?

"I suppose I should offer my gratitude that you are all willing to listen." I try not to count the number of hands on hilts. "I'm sure that most of you have been made aware of the… Situation." A few people nod. "I can save Lavellan. Cole, Dorian, I would appreciate your assistance in this matter."

"How can we assist?" Dorian asks.

"We will enter the fade, find her, and bring her back."

"That easy, huh?" Varric remarks.

I ignore the dwarf. "I cannot say for sure what we will encounter. It will not be as dangerous for us as it is for her." I gesture behind me, to the body on the slab. "But leaving her there will mean her death."

"I'm coming with you," Cassandra says.

"Are you sure that's wise, _Holiness?_" Varric nudges her.

She scoffs. "He just said it would not be dangerous."

"Is that what you said, Chuckles?"

"I'm afraid I may have, indeed, made this sound much easier than it will be. Make no mistake, there is a chance that any of us could end up trapped as well."

A few people mutter to each other.

"I'll go," Cullen stands.

"This will not be a physical fight so much as a mental one, Commander," I try to hide my disdain for the particular kind of help he offers.

"I'm not looking for a fight, _apostate_, are you?"

"Apostate, is that meant to insult me?"

Cullen goes to unsheathe his sword.

"Alright, calm down, Curly." Varric pulls Cullen back down, but the commander's hand stays on the pommel.

Dorian stands abruptly and storms up to stand at the end of the slab. His hands hover near her feet. "Can't you all stop chattering like infants!" he slams his hands down next to her ankles. The sound is enough to make even me flinch a bit. "Of course you hate him, we all hate him! But she didn't!" He walks up to hold her hand. "She trusted him. She wanted to find him, to change his mind, up until the end. None of you knew her like I knew her." He rubs his eye quickly and sniffs. "And if this is a trick, I swear I will kill him myself." I look at the stone floor. I remember how it used to feel on my feet, those years ago, cold yet somehow caring. "But look at him. Can't you tell that, somehow, he cares about her? Our Inquisitor, our Herald, our Savior? If that uncaring bastard could love anyone, it would be her."

The words, though true, are chains around my neck. My legs begin to shiver. I lock my knees, trying to stay upright. The hall remains silent. I look up to see everyone else looking down. Could they be ashamed?

Cassandra looks to me. "What can the rest of us do?"

"If you'd be so kind, don't kill me before we come back."

"I'll keep 'em off ya," Thom Ranier calls from the back.I nod in his direction. My legs regain some feeling.

"I'd still like to come along," says Cullen, "just in case."

I sigh. They have made concessions. It's only right that I reciprocate their trust. "Very well. I don't imagine I could stop you, Commander."

He nods, closes his eyes for a moment too long, and I finally see it— The bags under his eyes, they should be gone by now. This isn't lyrium. This is love. Does she know? Does he?


	5. Chapter 4: Into the Fade

Hello friends! It's been longer than I'd like, but as finals approach, I have less and less time to devote to writing this. I finally carved out some time for this chapter, and to start the next chapter. As always, translations (well, translation) are after the chapter. Enjoy!

* * *

I try to ignore the gasps from those watching as I slide my arm under Lavellan's shoulder, lift her slowly, and climb onto the slab with her. I lower her head so it rests in my lap. I gesture for Dorian and Cullen, sitting on wobbling wooden stools on either side of her, to take her hands. Well, hand. Cullen quickly obeys but flinches at the cold— not as cold as a corpse, but colder than she should be. Dorian sees Cullen's reaction and hesitates as he reaches out to her. He looks at me and back to Cullen, who nods once. Dorian rests his hand on her upper arm. Cole comes up behind me and places a hand on my shoulder.

"Are we all ready?"

Cullen directs a terse jerk of the head at me. Dorian bows solemnly and sets his jaw, looking at Lavellan's face. Cole's grip tightens, which I take as affirmation. I close my eyes and feel myself falling backwards.

…

When I open my eyes, I'm lying in a patch of warm, brown grass. The scorching golden sky seems to press against my face, making it hard to breathe, much less stand. This is not the first time I've been here.

I roll over onto my stomach and arch my back, slowly stretching my way up into a sitting position. I assist Dorian and Cullen, though Cole is already standing, a few feet away, looking into the distance. We sit on a small mound in a steep-walled canyon. Towards the setting sun, the canyon works its way deep into the fade, splitting into endless forks. Luckily, that is not where Cole's looking when he says, "There."

He points to a small fissure in the wall to my left, a seam I've never noticed before. Things change constantly in the fade, yet I feel uneasy about this appearance. Dorian and Cullen help each other up. Dorian offers me a hand but I stand on my own. A bead of sweat slides from behind my ear down my neck. At least it may be cooler inside the rock. We follow Cole into the fissure.

It's dark, and indeed cooler, but the air is wet and smells of decay and is much more unpleasant than the environment outside. Something rumbles from deeper inside the cave, releasing more of the foul odor. I wave my hand and the smell dissipates with my hand's intent.

"Eugh!" Dorian cries, "What in the Maker's name is that smell?"

"Eyes, an entire face of eyes, dripping and oozing and—"

"Please make him stop." Cullen leans against the side of the narrow cave.

"Feeling nauseated, Commander?" I ask, hearing the unintentional edge to my voice

"It's a revolting stench." Cullen defends. He bends over, coughs a few times, and rights himself.

"Better?" Dorian asks.

"Not really."

"You don't need to smell it."

"What do you mean?" Cullen glares at me.

"We're essentially dreaming now. You can do anything you want to."

Dorian understands immediately. He closes his eyes for a moment, takes a deep breath, and sighs on the exhale. "Why didn't you say so before?" I stay silent. I'd like to admit that I nearly didn't tell them at all, just for the look on the Commander's face. However, that bit of amusement would jeopardize the mission.

Cullen seems to be having trouble understanding how to dispel the odor. He bends over and coughs some more. "I think I'm making it worse." I send a gust of relatively fresh air to him. "Thanks." He mutters.

We make our way into the shadows, following Cole.

The cave gets tighter, damper, until we finally squeeze out onto a ledge overlooking a huge open chamber. Water drips from stalactite to stalagmite, different sized pillars producing different notes, an orchestra of drops. A few of them have met in the middle, forming floor-to-ceiling columns several stories high. The air here feels so thick with moisture and the smell, it's hard to remember that I can control this environment. Cole waits for all of us to take in the magnificence of the place before turning to make his way down the treacherously steep stairway down to our right.

Halfway down, something rumbles again. The sound is tremulous. I realize that it's laughter. The sound dies away as we continue down.

The stairs begin to lose their steepness, and I'm able to look around more as we descend.

Cole stops short as we reach the bottom. I look at him, questioning. He raises a finger and points straight ahead, his eyes blank but wet. I follow his gesture to a lump at the base of the largest mineral tower.

It's her. I dash to the curled up form, urging my legs to carry me faster than I know I can. Cole, who could have blinked and been by her side, stays fixed in his position.

I sink to my knees when I reach her, pulling her into my arms. I worry about her limpness until I realize she's shivering. At least shivering is movement. Shivering means life. She whimpers as I wrap my arms around her, trying to warm her tepid skin. "Shhh, vhenan, I am here. You're safe."

The whimpers turn to sobs. "Why are you doing this?" Her voice is weak. She looks up and I see her pupils are foggy, her skin nearly translucent. "Just let me die, please just let me die."

Her words fill me with dread. "It's me, vhenan…" I whisper, pulling her closer. I know she doesn't believe me.

The rumbling laughter comes again, this time louder. She cries out at something above me. I look up to see the monstrous, eight-legged form of the nightmare pulling itself out of a crack in the ceiling.

"So, you have come at last, Fen'Harel!" The nightmare sounds pleased. It creeps down on the huge column, its one hundred eyes staring at us. "I was worried you had seen through my trap and wouldn't come. But of course, you could never let your _heart_ die." I stay silent, cursing myself for rushing to her before checking the area. "It's a pity that the mighty Dread Wolf should be undone by such a simple plan."

"Ma emma harel," I spit.

It laughs. "Not this time." The spider hurls itself down at us.

* * *

Translations from wiki/Elven_language

"Ma emma harel": "You should fear me."

* * *

Yeah, I'm sorry for the cliffhanger. Like I said, I've already started the next chapter, so I'm hoping I'll have some time later this week to work on it.

Thank you for reading!


	6. Chapter 5: I Will Call You Home

Leaving the notes for the end on this one

* * *

Before the monster can fall upon us, One of the shorter stalactites breaks from the ceiling and launches itself at the nightmare, knocking it to the side. It shrieks as it falls upon a cluster of pillars, its huge body crushing them. I turn to see where the aid has come from. Cullen rushes toward us, followed closely by Dorian. The commander raises an arm. As he brings it down, another stalactite falls, this time shattering in our enemy's eyes. It shrieks again, giant legs flailing.

I hear a battle cry from behind me, and I turn to see two figures charging the spider. One is a spirit clad in Grey Warden armor, the other appears entirely too whole in this land of dreams. As they draw nearer, I recognize the more corporeal one as Alistair, the Warden that stayed to face the nightmare as we left. The other is…

"Maker," breathes Cullen, "it's the hero of Ferelden!" He throws a fist into the air, whooping as the spirit bounds through the air and falls upon the nightmare. She fires three arrows in quick succession, piercing its eyes.

"Take that, demon!" She crows as she pushes off and flips backward toward her partner. The nightmare wails and retreats back into the darkness.

The newcomers put away their weapons as they stroll toward us, laughing. "Hello, travelers," Alistair calls to us. "We thank you for the distraction! Hold on—" He finally seems to recognize us. "Cullen Rutherford?"

"Alistair Theirin! I thought they had left you for dead!" The two shake hands.

The slight elf reaches out to shake Cullen's hand as well. "He would be, if I hadn't found him." Her voice sounds like liquid metal as it echoes off the cavern walls.

Cullen grasps her hand. "Ryn Tabris, I can't believe my eyes."

"It's good to see you again. Alistair tells me you've come along way from Circle Templar."

"What are you all—" Alistair trails off when he sees Lavellan, curled into my chest. "Inquisitor!" He bends down to examine her. "What in the world happened?"

"Go away!" She lashes out at him. "Leave me alone!"

"She was taken by the nightmare while she slept," I explain. "I believe it has been torturing her here. She's been gone mere days in our world, but I'm not sure if she has perceived time the same way. It may have been years for her."

Cole appears next to Alistair. "Maker's breath," Alistair jolts at the sudden apparition.

"She cannot leave in this state," Cole says to me. "Cold, alone, she sees only demons."

"Cole is right," I frown, looking into her bloodshot eyes. There is no familiarity in them. "Bringing her back like this _would_ kill her."

"What do we do, then?" Dorain demands.

"I may be able to help," says the Hero of Ferelden. She reaches out to Cole. He takes her hand in his and places his other hand on Lavellan's cheek, careful not to startle her.

Cole's eyes begin to glow. "Lightning strikes, the wolves in the forest howl, _do not fear the Dread Wolf, Child_, mother tells me, but still I fear. I fear my dreams, the monsters with rounded ears who took our eternal lives from us, and the trickster who stole our gods." I flinch at Cole's narration of her thoughts. "Time turns fear into hate. I had to kill the wolf, or he would kill me first. Mother is still angry. _The wolves protect us, da'len_, she says, but I don't need protection now.

"Sent away, chosen by fate, the last survivor, Herald, not of Andraste, but of the coming darker days. One glowing light in that eternal night, he is ancient, ageless. He saved me twice, he saved us all. How could one so light be so obsessed with the dark? Why does he paint that many-eyed horror on the walls of our sanctuary? Why did he leave me?" I close my eyes, trying to hold back the tears.

"Ma'arlath. Ma'arla. He has left me for dead." I cannot keep myself steady any longer. I pull her closer, burying my face in her hair.

"Not good enough for him, not strong enough for him. The demon takes his shape. What he says isn't real, I say it again and again, I must not believe the lies." Cole's voice changes, grows harsher, deeper. "Ma banal, tel ma'vhenan, ir din'an." She sobs, trying to pull away from Cole. His hand stays firm on her face. Cole's voice returns to its normal tone. "Let me die, just let me die!"

Ryn nudges Alistair to the side so she may kneel next to Cole. She reaches out to Lavellan and looks at me as if to ask my permission before touching her. I bow my head. She wraps an arm around Lavellan's waist and pulls her from my lap. She slowly rocks her back and forth and hums. I recognize the melody, a lullaby sung by Dalish and City elves alike. She begins to sing.

_Elgara vallas, da'len_

_Melava somniar_

_Mala taren aravas_

_Ara ma'desen melar_

I take up the song with her.

_Iras ma ghilas, da'len_

_Ara ma'nedan ashir_

_Dirthara lothlenan'as_

_Bal emma mala dir_

_Tel'enfenim, da'len_

_Irassal ma ghilas_

_Ma garas mir renan_

_Ara ma'athlan vhenas_

_Ara ma'athlan vhenas_

It's impossible to hold back the sobs as I repeat the last line.

"Solas?" Her voice is raspy, but holds no trace of the fear that permeated her words before. She looks around at the rest of them. "Cullen, Dorian, what's going on?"

Cullen drops to his knees, and I see that he's also been crying. Dorian, too.

"Lost, in darkness, we led you back," Cole explains.

Recognition spreads over her face. "The nightmare!" She starts, tries to jump up, and stumbles over. All of us go to catch her, but Alistair grabs her first. "The nightmare is gone for now. But we have to get you out of here before it comes back." He lowers her back to the ground.

"Alistair? I thought you were dead!"

"No, I'm rather a _nightmare_ to kill." He chuckles at his own joke. Ryn slaps his arm and rolls her eyes.

"Then we can take you with us, can't we?" She looks at me for confirmation.

"I'm afraid that, without the anchor, it's impossible."

She looks down at her missing arm, then back to me. "But you took the anchor from me. You can open a rift!"

I look away. She's right, and yet, "I have no idea what damage that could do. It might cause another breach, like at the conclave."

"Besides," Alistair chimes in, "I'm rather happy here with the Hero of Ferelden."

"The Hero of—" Lavellan finally realizes who was holding her. "Oh, Maker, you're Ryn Tabris!"

Ryn laughs at her stunned face. "The one and only!"

"Were you the one singing?" Lavellan asks.

"Not the only one." Ryn looks at me. Lavellan follows her gaze.

"Solas?"

"I—" I can't think of anything to say.

"We really should leave," Cullen interrupts.

I nod. "Cullen is right. The longer we're here, the greater the risk."

"How do we actually go about leaving?" Dorian asks.

"The same way we came." I gesture for Dorian, Cullen, and Cole to assume the same positions as before. Alistair and Ryn back up, giving us space to depart.

"I'm sorry we can't help you," Lavellan says to Alistair.

"Believe me, this is the best place for me to be." He smiles down at Ryn, and she smiles back.

I touch her lightly on the shoulder. "Lie back, vhenan."

As she rests her head back in my lap, Cole grasps my shoulder, Dorian touches her arm, and Cullen grasps her hand. I feel the fade release its hold on us, and I fall forward into my own body once more.

* * *

Author's Notes:

In case it wasn't obvious, I used my DA:O Hero, Ryn Tabris, in this chapter. She romanced Alistair but sacrificed herself.

Also, some of the phrases are taken directly from the Dragon Age wiki but some I translated and put together on my own.

Cole's narration of Lavellan's memories start with memories from her childhood that I concocted before getting into in-game events. I intentionally left it pretty vague.

Thanks to everyone who's been reading and following!

* * *

Translations:

"Ma'arlath. Ma'arla": My love. My trap.

"Ma banal, tel ma'vhenan, ir din'an.": Roughly, "You are nothing to me, you are not my heart, I am your downfall."

The lullaby, "Mir Da'len Sominar" taken from Dragon Age: The World of Thedas ( dragonage . wikia wiki/Elven_language#cite_ref-127):

_Sun sets, little one,_

_Time to dream_

_Your mind journeys,_

_But I will hold you here._

_Where will you go, little one_

_Lost to me in sleep?_

_Seek truth in a forgotten land_

_Deep within your heart._

_Never fear, little one,_

_Wherever you shall go._

_Follow my voice-_

_I will call you home._

_I will call you home._


	7. Chapter 6: Another Way

Hello everyone! This... Took me a while... I kept rewriting it and letting it sit then rewriting it until I was finally satisfied because this is the last chapter. I didn't want to be anything less than 100% happy with it. I finally allowed myself to go full-on feels. I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Lavellan gasps as her spirit and body become one again. For a few moments, her labored breathing is the only sound in the hall.

"Andraste's arse," Varric swears, "It worked."

I help her sit up, slowly. The few members of Clan Lavellan nearly push me off the slab, fighting each other to embrace their kin. Cullen jumps up and pushes back the rest of the crowd beginning to encircle us. "Get back, give us some room!" He points to a young serving boy. "You. Bring her some water!" The boy runs to fetch a pitcher and goblet from the table. He hands them to Cullen, who looks into the pitcher and frowns. "I said water, not wine!"

"Actually," Lavellan's voice cracks, "I think I'd like some wine if it's all the same to you."

The hall fills with murmurs, and I try not to laugh at their shock. Of course, my own shock at our success has made me giddy. I muffle the short bursts as best I can, but I am noticed. Cole bends down to whisper in my ear, "It is okay to laugh, Solas. You don't have to fear happiness."

The servant scurries over, hands Lavellan the goblet, and fills it nearly to the brim with the deep red liquid. She brings it to her lips and takes a sip. She moans, so softly that I'm sure I'm the only one who hears it. We watch her silently as she drains half the cup. "What are you all staring for?" She asks. "It can't be that interesting to watch me drink!"

Varric lets out a loud, barking laugh. "Everything you do is interesting, my friend! I bet half the people here would pay a small fortune to watch you wipe your ass." The rest of the hall begins to laugh, too.

While they are distracted, Lavellan spots Leliana in the crowd and calls her over. Lavellan gestures for her to come closer and whispers something in her ear, too quiet for me to hear.

"It's already done," Leliana confirms and retreats back to the shadows.

Lavellan then turns to Dorian, who's still sitting on his stool, head in his hands. "Dorian!" she cries. "What's wrong?"

He looks up to reveal his wet, red eyes. Saying nothing, he practically leaps onto the slab to embrace her. He is quickly overtaken by his sobs.

"Dorian," she hugs him back.

"I thought I'd lost you," he admits.

"Dorian, you sentimental fool," she giggles, "I never realized how much you cared."

He pulls back and scoffs as he wipes his eyes. "You know you're my best friend, you ungrateful wretch."

"Wretch! I'll teach you!" She goes to tackle him, but falters and nearly falls off the slab. Cullen rushes over to try to steady her, but Dorian catches her first.

"Perhaps teach me after you've had some rest." He laughs at her scowl.

"Bah! I've been resting for—" She pauses. "How long has it been?"

"About a week," Cullen answers.

"Only a week!" She exclaims. "It felt… Well, it felt endless."

Cullen looks down. "It almost was."

For the first time since waking, Lavellan looks at me. "But it wasn't." There is a coldness in her eyes I did not expect.

I look away. "You ought to have something more substantial than wine," I say. "Broth, perhaps."

Cullen calls for the serving boy to go fetch some soup and bread from the kitchens.

After drinking some of the soup and nibbling off a few bites from the bread, she speaks again. "I think I'd like to go up to my quarters."

Dorian and Cullen nod, helping her up from the slab and towards the door to her tower. She looks back at me. "Solas?"

I stand and follow them up the stairs.

I first notice that the Eluvian has disappeared, no doubt Leliana's work.

Cullen releases his hold and Dorian helps her into bed.

I make my way onto the balcony, staring out at the green scar that still marks the sky above the Frostbacks.

"I'm not leaving you alone with _him!_" Cullen's voice roars from inside.

"He could kill you!" Dorian agrees.

I walk back inside. "If I wanted her dead, I wouldn't have come to save her." Can they truly still think I would ever try to hurt her?

The two men scowl at me.

She sighs. "Have someone guard the door if you're so worried. I'll shout if I need help."

Dorian objects. "But what if—"

"Dorian, how many times have I escaped Death when it seemed inevitable? At least six or seven now, if I'm not mistaken."

He goes silent.

"Right. Leave us." They obey her command, sulking away like wounded hounds.

When we hear the door downstairs swing open and shut again, I make my cautious approach.

"You really should sleep," I say.

She drops the stony facade for a moment. "I'm afraid to."

"I can ensure that nothing disturbs your sleep."

"And," she pauses, as if unsure whether she should continue, "you'll still be here when I wake up?"

"I promise."

She nods and closes her eyes, exhaustion making sleep easy.

I sit on the small couch next to her bed and watch her sleep for hours, making sure nothing disturbs her dreams. I go back and forth between sleeping and waking, guarding her inside the fade and observing her breathing outside of it. I find my mind wandering back to the first time I watched her sleep, before I knew who she was or what she would accomplish, before I knew the hold she would have over me, back when she was just the one who stole the anchor, the one who tumbled out of the fade at the Temple of Sacred Ashes.

She begins to stir near the fourth hour. She looks surprised to see me. "You're still here," she observes.

"I promised."

"You did." She looks down. "Why did you come for me?"

"I-" I pause, collecting the past week of thoughts into a coherent sentence. "I had to."

"But why?"

"Because I couldn't bear the thought of you dead. And because it was my fault the nightmare trapped you in the first place."

"What do you mean?" She cocks her head and furrows her brow.

"It was a trap for me," I explain. "The nightmare only took you to get to me."

She laughs, and it's my turn to look surprised. "Why in the world would you think that?" she asks.

"Because it told me! I had suspected it before, but it was confirmed when we arrived."

Her giggle turns into a guffaw. "The nightmare, who only tells lies to make you more afraid, repeated your thoughts to you, and you believed it?"

"I—" I'm shocked. Of course, my fear blinded me. It only told me what I most feared. "But still, you never would have been searching the fade if not to find me."

"I suppose you're right about that." The cold overtakes her laughter.

I look down. "I never thought you would keep searching. I shouldn't have stirred your hopes with that kiss when last we parted. I wanted you to move on, but I was weak. I'm so sorry."

She laughs again, but this time the sound is without mirth. "You think I was searching for you out of sentimentality?" I say nothing. "I _have_ moved on, Solas." Cullen's face flashes in my mind. "I sought you out to try to stop you."

"Ah." I clear my throat. "I see."

"You really should have taken me with you, Solas." Her voice wavers. "I would have done anything for you. I would have followed you down the din'anshiral." She pauses to clear her throat again. "When you left, I began to realize how foolish that would have been. I suppose I should thank you for not letting me come with you." She does not sound thankful. "Before the Exalted Council, before everything that happened in the Crossroads, I believed you. I believed it when you said that what we had was real. I replayed the words over and over until my head would spin."

"I never meant to hurt you."

"But you did. Can't you see that?"

I whip my head up. "Of course I can see that! You think I don't feel like a monster every day for what I have done to you?"

She brandishes the stump of her left arm. "And how does that help me? You feel terrible, so what? Self-flagellation is no apology."

"I'm sorry. How many times would you like me to say it?"

"Not once more, not until you mean it."

I feel ice coursing through my veins where hot blood should be. "What makes you so certain that I don't?"

"How could you? You don't even understand what you've done! You don't see what you've become!"

"What have I become, then, Vhenan?" I try to sound sincere, but it comes out as spite.

"You've become Corypheus!" Her words stun me into silence, but she continues. "He awoke after a thousand years to find that his once-great empire had fallen, and decided that the destruction of the world was a small price to pay for its return."

"It's not the same! Nothing he could have done would have truly restored the Imperium."

"Do you even hear yourself, Solas?" She begins to sit up, throwing off her blankets and swinging her legs over the side of the bed.

"I am trying to undo a great wrong, one that was my fault to begin with!"

"By destroying the world."

"No, I already destroyed the world. I'm bringing it back to life."

"You actually believe that, don't you?"

"It is fact."

"It is not!" Her face flushes. "My people have suffered for centuries—"

"And I'm trying to end that suffering—"

"But can you take it back? Can you reverse time, go back and rewrite history?"

"No, but—"

"Can you bring back those killed in slavery, or in the Exalted March?"

"No, but I—"

"What you seek to restore no longer exists, Solas! It would take decades, centuries maybe for my people, our people, to rebuild what we lost, if we even could at all."

"Then help me. Come with me, Vhenan."

"I will not. I don't want that world. This is the world I know, and this is the world I want to rebuild. You could do so much for this world, but you gave up on it the moment you woke up and found that it was not what you wanted it to be. You kept everything and everyone at arm's length, refusing to care for your creation, so that it wouldn't hurt when you had to kill it. But here I am, part of this world, and you say you care about me. If you do, am I not proof that this world is worth something, anything?"

"You would give up the chance at immortality? You would doom your entire race?"

"I am an elf, yes, but I care about so much more than just Elves. Maker, Solas, my best friend is a human, a Tevinter Magister! I love my clan, but I found my true family in the Inquisition."

"And now the Inquisition is gone. They've all left you."

She glares. "How dare you say that to me." The sharpness of her voice turns my blood cold. "We've gone our separate ways, but they never left me. The only one who ever deserted me was _you_. I have never had to question their love for me, and never made them question my love. They believed in me when I did not believe in myself. _They_ make this world worth living. If the world you seek to create is as distant and cold as you, I want no part in it."

"You don't know what Arlathan was like, or you wouldn't say that. I've told you of its majesty, and still you prefer a cursed, sad, _mortal_ life."

She gets up and begins to storm over to me. "You think you're so _superior_. You're not. You can't help but to prefer your time, a time that is gone and that you cannot bring back. I understand that, I understand that everything you knew is gone, and for that, I am sorry." She kneels in front of me and places her hand on mine. I try not to flinch away from her touch.

"You don't understand." My voice breaks. "I cannot sleep, cannot dream without seeing what I've done. I still find myself reaching for things that aren't there. The fade is full of spirits, old friends, more of whom are corrupted every day. The fade is a wasteland, the veil a curse." I feel a tear roll down my cheek.

She moves to wipe it away. "I am so sorry that you feel responsible for the downfall of everything you once held dear. I am sorry that your pride has brought you here. I am sorry that you cannot see the good in this world, that you won't _let_ yourself see it. But Solas," She rises to sit next to me, "my world is just as good as yours. You did what you did to try to save your people. You're only doing what you're doing now to try to save us again. Solas, I don't say this to be cruel, I say this because you need to hear it. We don't need you. We don't need the Dread Wolf to come back and cause more chaos. If you want to change the world for the better, you can't do it by force. You once told me about how elves would cast spells that would last years, slowly shaping the world around them. You spoke so wistfully of how slow life once was, yet you are perhaps the most impatient person I know."

"Because I will not wait for fate, or some forgotten force to come and save us from a life of endless torment?"

"You saw the seat of the Maker and it was empty," she mutters, "you couldn't stand to live in a world without a god, so you decided to become one yourself."

"That was Corypheus, not me."

"The comparison is not so far off."

"Corypheus had selfish motives. I wanted justice for Mythal, and for my people. I made a mistake. I am only trying to correct it!"

"You can argue motive all you want, Solas, but the wrong thing for the right reasons is still the wrong thing."

"What would you have me do?!" I stand, wrenching my hands away, and walk back out to the balcony.

Her light footsteps echo as she follows. Her voice, gentle yet clear, rings over my shoulder. "Wait."

I turn, and look into her eyes. "I'm waiting."

"No, that's what I'd have you do. Wait."

"Wait?"

"Let me try to find a better way before you destroy everything. Better yet, work with me. Stop trying to fight us. We can work together. We could find allies to help us. You're so certain you must work alone, but that's not the only way, Solas."

"Who would you ally with? Orlais? Tevinter? The Qun?"

"Why not?"

"You can't be serious."

"Alright, maybe not the Qun, but the others—"

"They would not understand. Those ignorant fools would kill us before they would work with us."

"They worked with me before."

"Yes, when you were Inquisitor. And even then, they did not respect you. They only worked with you because they knew you were their only hope to defeat Corypheus, and after that because they feared what the Inquisition had become."

"And now I am their only hope once again. They may not believe it, but I am the only one who can stop you."

I remain silent, and turn away once again. She doesn't even know how right she is.

"Solas," She circles me to try to meet my eyes again. "I don't want to kill you. I don't want to hurt you. I don't even want to fight you. Give me ten years to find a better solution. If, after that time, we've found nothing, I will not stand in your way. But if you try to destroy everything and everyone I love before you give me this chance, I will kill you myself."

I look into her eyes. "You really think we could find a better way in just ten years?"

She smiles. It's deep and true and full of hope. "Fen'Harel and the Herald of Andraste? Together we could do anything."

I smile back. It's a peculiar sensation. I realize I can't remember the last time I smiled like this. "You may be right." I weigh the options for a brief moment. Ten years isn't long. Longer than I would like, but she's right. I ought to be more patient. And ten more years with her… But no, I couldn't stay. "And what would you do without the help of the Dread Wolf?"

Her smile falters, but she recovers quickly. "I will do what I would have been doing this last year, had I not been searching for you. I will do what you _should_ have been doing, instead of trying to destroy everything. I will become an ambassador. You're right, I don't have the influence I once did, but I still have enough. I will find justice for all of the elves in Theadas. We will never return to Elvhenan, not even to Halamshiral, but we have knowledge now that they never did. Some will never want to return to the old ways, but some will. I will build a new world, one in which Elves and Humans and Dwarves, maybe even Qunari, will stand together against the darkness. Nothing unites people like a common enemy, and you may be the enemy we need."

I frown. It's a lovely idea, peace throughout Thedas. Even if she could achieve it, it would not be enough. "You might try. You might even succeed. But what happens when you are gone? What happens in a few more centuries when the Humans decide, as Humans always do, that the Elves should be their subordinates, their slaves? We will be fighting this same battle until the world ends."

She crosses her arms and turns to look at the sky. We stand in anxious silence until she turns back. "What if there's a middle ground?"

"A middle ground?"

"Yes, what if we could restore magic, restore what was, without bringing down the veil entirely?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, maybe only bring the veil down in one place. Maybe make it thinner but not completely destroy it. There has to be some compromise between total destruction and doing nothing."

I have thought about it. I studied it as much as I could since I awoke. "There is no way."

"How can you be sure? You've been awake what, five years? How could you possibly know everything there is to know-"

"I never claimed to know everything there is to know!"

"But you think you do."

"I do not!"

"Then give me ten years to find another way!"

She has a point. If there was another way, I must help her try find it, if for no other reason than to spend ten more years looking into her eyes. "Fine."

She looks stunned. "Really?"

I sigh. "Yes. On one condition."

"What's that?"

"That you come with me to Arlathan. Let me show you the homeland of your ancestors. Let me show you what it was like before."

"That's it? That's your condition?"

"That's my condition."

"I would love that!" She beams, draws closer, and before I know it, her lips are on mine. I melt into the kiss. My hands find their way to the small of her back, and I'm pulling her closer, closer until…

"Wait," she says, pushing me away. "I… I can't. I'm sorry."

I sigh. "It's Cullen, isn't it."

She can't meet my eyes. "Nothing's happened, really. I've been in Tevinter, he's been in Ferelden. It's just been letters, but…"

"You love him?"

"No." She laughs bitterly. "I'm not even sure what love means anymore. But I care for him, and he deserves better."

"So when you said that you moved on…"

"I meant I moved on to _myself_. After so much time feeling like you were the only think keeping me whole, and then watching you walk away, twice, and then losing my arm, I thought I'd never feel whole again. And then I felt something change. I came out of everything, beaten, broken, but still breathing. I admit, I was inspired by Dorian's somewhat ostentaitous self-love, and I learned to care for myself as if I was my own best friend, my own love. It's hard, and I'm still working on it, but I don't feel quite so broken anymore."

"I wish I could feel that," I mutter. My words sound bitter, but all I feel is reverence.

"You could, Solas." She puts her hand on my cheek.

"How?"

"That's for you to discover. It cannot come from me."

"I see." The hope in her eyes is intoxicating. I look away.

She pulls my face back to look deep into my eyes. "Just know that you are never alone, no matter how hard the journey becomes."

For once, those words, _you are not alone_, sound more like a heartfelt promise than a threatening reminder. I take her face in my hands, pulling it close to mine. "I do not deserve your kindness."

"Then work for it." Her challenge is unexpected. I silently decide that I will. I will do everything I can to deserve everything she has given me.

"Ar lath, ma vhenan," I whisper, before releasing her face and stepping away. After a moment of deep breaths, trying to hold together, I continue. "So, what happens now?"

"Now, we rebuild the world."

* * *

Thank you so much for reading this little scrap of self-indulgent feelings. When I first came up with the idea two years ago, it was definitely not the same story it is today. For any other writers (fanfic or otherwise, veterans or newbies), don't give up on your ideas. Don't be afraid to change things. Don't be afraid to go back to something you hate if you had high hopes for it when you started it.

I may write more Solavellan nonsense, but only if people actually want me to. (And first, I gotta publish this on Ao3)

*insert significant and charming closing line here*

~FMH


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